Page 9 of Jetmir

Jet kept moving, his pace steady and relentless, while I hung helplessly over his shoulder, staring at the streets passing beneath us.

His footsteps carried us through the streets as Vlorë slowly began to wake around us. Doors opened. Shutters creaked. Somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life.

The city was slowly awakening while my life was quickly but surely unravelling.

CHAPTER TWO

ANYA

The baklava, a walnut-stuffed filo for which I used peanut oil, was almost done. Baklava—the nut-free alternative—was Thorne’s… Jetmir’s favorite.

Damn it, I didn’t even know what to call my husband.

Either way, I wished there was another way, but after our last fight, I knew there wasn’t. I grabbed any piece of art I could lift and threw it at Jetmir’s head.

He dodged it, of course, at the same time vowing I’d have to kill him to give up on us.

I believed him.

After, he brought me to his gilded cage; he had top-of-the-line security installed and the only time it wasn’t enabled was when he was home. I assumed it was because he was very confident in his skills to catch me before I had a chance to escape him.

Hence, my plan to disarm him… Okay, okay… poison him.

Still, that was better than being killed by the explosion. After my husband brought me to his “safe house” and ensured all was in order, he did go back to check on Gabriel and Amara. He informed me that Amara got them to safety and they were at the hospital, but they were fine.

Fine.

I scoffed.

I sincerely doubted they were fine after that kind of explosion. He was very dodgy when I asked if they were hurt. His answer was “a bit” and it made me want to scream. It wasn’t until I nagged the shit out of him that he admitted the explosion might have hurt Gabriel’s eyes.

My brother’s eyes!

I begged him to take me to see him. I pleaded and cried, but for the first time ever, Thorne… no, fucking Jetmir refused me. He told me it wasn’t safe. We were lucky that Gabriel and Amara showed up when they did because if we were sleeping, we’d both be dead.

What? How? Why?

None of it made sense.

I’d asked him repeatedly who caused the explosion. Who intended to kill us? But of course, the only answer I got was that the Triad would cease to exist when he was done with them. Whatever the heck that meant.

I stood over the oven, watching the golden edges through the glass as the smell of sugar filled the kitchen. My hands were trembling. I’d never hurt anyone, but I didn’t have a choice anymore. My family needed me and my husband refused to let me see them.

“You think I would let them take you from me?” he asked last night while he stood across from me furious, wild-eyed, his voice breaking. “I will never give you up, Anya. You’re my air, and damn it, I should be your oxygen too. Our vows are forever, and I’ll wage war against the whole world before I let them take you.”

“They’re not taking me,” I screamed. “You took me. You lied to me.”

I stared at him, my heart still so in love with this man, but I simply couldn’t stay. Jetmir’s lies and schemes had brought us here, and damn it, nobody should have paid the price, but yet, my brother paid the highest price. Our actions had led to Gabriel losing his sight.

And now, Jetmir was refusing to let me go. Couldn’t he see that my family needed me? My brother needed me.

The oven timer rang and I flinched. For a moment, I’d forgotten I was baking.

I pulled the baklava from the oven and set it on the counter, staring at it.

Was I really going to go through with my plan?

My lips pressed into a thin line and determination washed over me.